


X Marks the Spot

by OtakuElf



Series: YADAA (Yet Another Dragon Age Alphabet) [24]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mages and Templars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:44:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7230496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtakuElf/pseuds/OtakuElf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Circle Mage Philip Anderson thinks he's seen a dead man in the Denerim Market Square.</p>
            </blockquote>





	X Marks the Spot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LunaMoth116](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaMoth116/gifts).



Sally Donovan enjoyed an afternoon in the market. Paired with walking across the polished riverstone cobbles in the warm sunlight with Enchanter Anderson, searching for components for his spellwork, it was all interesting in a “not being killed in combat” sort of way.

Oh, Sally was wary. This was Denerim, after all. No one lived to be a successful mercenary without an eye out for the possible enemies all around. The couple was not walking in the back alleys. There she would be taking their lives into her hands to move about with less than an armed troop. Denerim, a city filled with the poor and desperate - which made it easier for a mercenary to earn a living - was no worse than most of Rivain. Sally thanked the Maker she had escaped the life of a Rivaini seer. Her mother had been right to move them all to the Free Marches. Not that Sally was a seer. In all probability she’d never have been allowed to leave Rivain with her family if she had shown the signs.

Sally did still send money home to her brothers and sisters. But this was not the time to reflect on that. They would collect the Enchanter’s items, and have time to slope off back to the Inn, where Anderson could show her some more of what mages could do in bed. The Enchanter was her favorite of their consultants - his attention was very pleasant - and he was the only one she bedded.

Philip Anderson, enchanter of the Kinloch Hold Circle, was out walking in the free air with the beautiful Sally Donovan. He was a mage with the freedom of Templar Chantry paperwork, escorted by a strong and extremely flexible mercenary, who found him attractive. It should be all to the good. But something had spoiled the day.

“I am grateful, Sally. Don’t think I’m not.”

“You have an interesting way of showing it, Phil.” Sally Donovan teased him with a mock pout. Tight curls shone in the Denerim sunshine as she shifted hold of the packages they’d just picked up. 

“I just,” Anderson was careful in how he phrased this, “I think I’m being haunted.”

The beautiful dark-skinned fighter swung ‘round and stared at the enchanter, eye to eye, more confrontationally that she had done before. Phil Anderson, once of Orlais, now of Kinloch Hold Circle, cared more for this woman’s opinion than of anyone else in Thedas. Instead of chaffing him, she gave him to the nod to go on.

“There was an enchanter. At Kinloch. He died in the blood mage uprising. He wasn’t a blood mage, but a fire demon killed him. I saw his body - burnt to a crisp. He’s dead.”

When he paused for an overly long time she gave him a sever look. “There has to be more,” she demanded.

“I just saw him. In the herb market. When we were looking for potion ingredients,” Enchanter Anderson muttered.

“You’re sure he’s dead? That he wasn’t shamming?” Donovan said, “It wasn’t some sort of magic trick?”

“No,” insisted Anderson,” There was a templar - not too bright, of course. But good at what he did. He’d have known, as close as he was to the body. And the healers signed the cause of death certificates as well as overseeing the cremations. I know the healer who handled his body, because she was a friend. Both of his and of mine, though I couldn’t stand the man. She was a wreck over his death.”

"Any reason why he would be haunting you?" she asked, not letting the humour she found in the situation appear.

Philip Anderson had the grace to look uncomfortable. "I," he started, "As I said, I have not always gotten along with the man. We have clashed. He's someone who picks apart a man's secrets, habits, even their vocabulary to win an argument. I did not always fight back fairly."

“Alright,” Donovan gave a nod, before heading back toward the market, “So we go and check out the herb merchant, yeah? Make sure it's a person, not a ghost.” She ignored her lover’s reluctance, starting her questioning at the first of the market’s herb sellers. “Excuse me, we’re looking for a friend. He’s tall,” she looked to Phil and adjusted the hand held up to his nod, “with, what would you say his hair color was?” she looked at the mage.

“Dark,” Anderson ground out, “wavy, almost curly. And his eyes are light.”

“Monsieur Basil,” was well known. Not one of the vendors had an address though, and seemed to be under the misapprehension that the man was someone’s personal chef. They had all shared receipts for family dishes.

“Perhaps,” Anderson said thoughtfully, “I’m mistaken.”

“You think so?” Sally Donovan asked, “Darn good description if you are.”

“None of them thought he was a mage,” the Senior Enchanter pointed out.

Donovan was silent for a moment. “We tend to see what we look for, Phil. You know that.”

Most of the walk back to their digs did not involve speaking. Anderson was thinking. Sally was watching him, albeit out of the corner of her eye. Finally, “it was him,” Phil Anderson told her.

“Uhuh. What are you going to do?”

“Me?” Phil’s voice shot up an octave, “Aren’t you going to turn him in?”

“Not my problem, is it?” Sally said neutrally.

“A mage on the loose? One who is supposedly dead? The Chantry would love that! Much less that he escaped during the Blood Mage Uprising! He could be an abomination like Uldred.” Phillip Anderson dragged his hands through his neat brown hair.

“So. Yeah. That brings it back to what do you want to do?” came from Sally.

“I need to find him,” that was definite. 

Donovan shook her head, “Alright, I’m in. We’ve got three days before Lestrade moves us out. Let's see what we can find.”


End file.
